


The Second Best/Worst Christmas

by afteriwake



Series: Never A Dull Holiday [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Breakfast in Bed, Calm Lestrade, Christmas Dinner, Christmas Morning, Cute Kids, Dysfunctional Family, Engaged Mycroft Holmes.Greg Lestrade, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Eurus Gives A Good Gift, Family Dinners, Family Fluff, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Minor Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, Mycroft Feels, Nervous Mycroft, POV Mycroft Holmes, Post-Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem, Protective Mycroft, Shotgun Wedding, Step-Parent Mycroft, Step-parents, Wedding Planning, sherrinford
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 12:08:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13076562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: A year has passed and while things have changed, the Christmas season is still just as problematic as ever, with news of an impending sibling for Mycroft's soon-to-be stepdaughter and a full family visit with Eurus for Christmas dinner.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this was my entry in the Mystrade Advent Calendar for 2017! It's a bit late, but as everyone loves the first fic I thought I'd write a sequel. Hope you enjoy!

His first real Christmas with his own family had been rather soured at the start by the news that Ashley was to expect a sibling. Not his and Greg’s child, no, though they had talked in the previous year, not just among themselves but with Ashley. No, her harpy of a mother, who was quickly becoming the bane of his existence since the fiasco the year before, was expecting a child with Ashley’s other stepfather.

The woman had had the audacity to say that at least she _wanted_ her new child because he or she would love her the best, and it was all Mycroft could do when Ashley came home and threw herself in her father’s arms, sobbing, to absolutely ruin the woman. But...she was pregnant. This was Ashley’s brother or sister being born in a few months. He wouldn’t make things hard for that woman, not when Ashley wanted a sibling so badly.

But he and Greg had bent over backward this holiday to show Ashley just how wanted she was, at least by them. He had even gone ice skating! Somehow he was sure it had been caught on video and his PA had shown it to Sherlock, because now his brother smirked every time they were in the same room. Small price to pay for the joy on Ashley’s face to give her “other dad” lessons.

He had never thought he would be someone’s father, though it wasn’t legal yet. Yes, it had been a year but they had just not found the time to finalize it all, have the ceremony and make it all nice and official. In the meantime, though, Ashley had not taken one second to refer to him as anything but “my dad’s husband” or “my other dad.”

It warmed what little ice remained in his heart.

They had decided their family tradition would be to celebrate amongst themselves the night before and then make the trek to his parent’s home in the morning. He had perhaps overindulged in the gifts for his family, but that was because this year, for the first time, he felt he really had a family. His husband to be, his soon to be stepdaughter and him. The best family he ever could have hoped for.

And so it was with dismay that his sister just _had_ to make trouble on Christmas Eve Day. Not that she escaped again, or killed anyone else or anything like that.

She spoke, for the first time since the ordeal she had put him, Sherlock and John through.

A demand to see her family...at home. And then she would help again.

This had been met with a bit of hesitation on his part, but Sherlock said he would occupy her. He had changed so much since then, even if they still tweaked each other’s noses. But it had been years, and Sherlock’s fondness for his sister had never waned, even with all things considered.

So this year, the Sherlock family Christmas was to be held at Sherrinford. His parents, Sherlock, Molly, Greg, Ashley and himself. With Eurus. She had said the entire family had to be there, so they would be.

At least the other parts of the month had been festive because he was outright dreading this.

He had barely slept the night before, fiddling with his engagement ring. The year before, two of this party had not been involved in the debacle that had been looking for Ashley as she escaped her family’s vacation in Greece. Ashley had been sitting in her father’s flat most of the day while the adults panicked and Molly had still not yet agreed to date Sherlock. He had the feeling it had been the events of that evening that might have persuaded Sherlock to try again with her; whatever it had been, he was finally successful. As far as he knew, though, she had no desire to meet her boyfriend’s sister. And Mycroft would prefer Ashley never be in Eurus’s presence. But his superiors needed her help, help willingly given this time, and after the favours he had called in last year he didn’t have enough clout to argue.

He wondered what his sister had up her sleeve. Her meddling had not only brought about Sherlock and Molly’s relationship, but his and Gregory’s. Without having been handed off to the good inspector that evening, neither of them would have admitted the truth or the strength of their regard for each other. So he owed her, he supposed. But it was not a debt he wanted to repay this way, involving his stepdaughter.

He was surprised Greg had slept as soundly as he did, but soon he felt movement on his side and a kiss pressed to his shoulder. “Imagining worst case scenarios?” Greg asked.

“Unfortunately,” Mycroft said. “And I have been all night.”

“Yeah, you weren’t the only one.” Lips were replaced by chin and Mycroft felt briefly comforted when Greg’s lips found his neck. Nothing passionate or pressing, just a simple kiss. Their relationship was quite easy in that regard. It was never demanding and moved at whatever pace they chose. Hence the year-long engagement. “Had a few bad dreams about it.”

“We can say Ashley fell ill this week,” Mycroft said. “Leave her with Andrea for the day. I know she wouldn’t mind taking her to visit her family in Hampshire.”

“Your sister would know,” Greg said with a sigh. “It isn’t as though she wants us there the entire time. Just dinner. One meal with all of us and we’re done.”

Mycroft nodded, quiet. He had been kept out of the loop of the preparations for this meal, much to his dismay. It had all been a debacle and aside from his visits with his family to see her each month, he had nothing to do with her.

Not by choice, though. If he could, he would do things differently. Better. Never have let it get to the point he had. One of his many regrets, he supposed, and one of the few reasons he was thankful he’d kept his post. At least he could have some say, though it was not much, and be listened to.

But now was not the time to think about it because the bedroom door was opening. “Are you decent?” Ashley called out.

“Of course we are,” Greg said, lifting his head up.

Ashley came bounding into the room, carrying a tray. The girl was a halfway decent cook, a skill she’d had to learn to fend for herself, and the smell of coffee battled with the smell of what he believed to be French toast. A breakfast in bed lifted his spirits, especially when he saw he was correct and it was French toast with berry compote and a flourish of powdered sugar. “Did Andrea help?” he asked, smiling as she set the breakfast on the bed and passed plates to them.

Ashley shook her head. “I did it all myself.” Then she paused. “Alright, Andrea cut the bread to the right thickness. But that’s all!”

“How did you learn to make the berry sauce?” Greg asked before beginning to eat.

“Cooking class at school. I asked the teacher to show me something spectacular for a breakfast in bed, and the French toast was what I got.” She watched them both take a bite. “Well?”

“Very tasty,” Greg said. 

Mycroft nodded. It was an indulgence he didn’t have often, but this was well worth some extra exercise. “It surpasses my already high expectations,” he said.

The wide smile on Ashley’s face warmed his spirits until she frowned slightly. “We’re going to see Aunt Eurus today, still, right?”

“Yes,” Mycroft said. 

“Oh,” she said. Mycroft expected her to say she didn’t want to go, but her next words surprised him. “Do we have a gift for her?”

“No, we don’t,” Mycroft said, exchanging a glance with Greg. “She’s not allowed...normal gifts.”

“Then can I bring my flute? Maybe I can play something for her.”

“I think she would like that very much,” Mycroft said with a nod, relaxing. Perhaps this would not go badly after all...


	2. Chapter 2

It did not take as long as he had hoped to get to Sherrinford. What had taken longer was getting the new visitors registered. He had already telephoned ahead to say Ashley would be bringing her flute, so she’d made sure to have it ready to be inspected. 

The tone of the visit this year between them was more somber. It was on the way there that he had been told they would have the dining area to themselves. There would be no cutlery aside from a spork each, and everything that needed to be cut would be bite-sized. There would be no decorations up. It was rather depressing but it was something his sister wanted nonetheless. And for the help she would give the government, she got it.

He saw Sherlock had brought his violin, and on the trip, he and Ashley had been talking about “their” song, a piece they had worked on together once she’d gotten proficient in her lessons. He had the feeling it had been finished and they would be privy to it today. He was looking forward to that but had hoped it would be in a different scenario.

Once they were settled in the dining area, it didn’t take long for Eurus to be brought in. She was actually smiling; not anything feral like he remembered from his childhood, or malicious. It almost seemed...normal. “Happy Christmas,” she said quietly.

His mother blinked back tear. “Happy Christmas,” she said back. There was a chorus of the greetings all around. She sat at the head of the table they were at and looked at the food before pushing her plate to the side. After a moment, she made a hand motion that told them all they should begin eating.

It was an eerily quiet Christmas meal. Eurus didn’t touch her food, and while it was admittedly good, it was not the meal he was used to. There was very little conversation, and he could tell Molly felt uneasy around Eurus, leaning in towards Sherlock more. But, perhaps, it wasn’t bad by their standards. Silence meant no fighting.

“Musgrave Hall is rebuilt?”

The question from Eurus came out of nowhere, and Mycroft nodded. “Yes, it is.”

“Good. You all should go there. Knock down...” she trailed off and then looked down.

“It has been,” Sherlock said quietly. “We found him.”

Eurus nodded, and Mycroft could see it was hard for him to talk about, still, the loss of his childhood companion. Molly set her hand on his arm. Then she turned to Ashley. “Musician?”

“Flutist,” she said, showing little of the wariness the others did. “I have a song or two for you.”

The genuine smile came back and she nodded again. Even though she could talk, apparently she didn’t want to much. They finished their meals then, and Sherlock and Ashley went to where their instruments were and got them. After a moment, they began to play, and Mycroft watched his sister as she shut her eyes, a sense of serenity on her face. The song lasted nearly five minutes, and when it was over they clapped politely, even Eurus. “Lovely,” she said. “You’re talented, Ashley.”

“Thank you,” Ashley said, blushing.

“You can all leave now,” Eurus said, standing up. The guards came to her and in a few moments, she was gone. Mycroft let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as they all began to stand and headed to be processed out.

It was as they were nearing the helicopter that a guard ran out to the “Mister Holmes, sir!” he said, catching his breath. “Your sister said to give you a message.”

Mycroft frowned and looked at the note the man handed him. On it was a long series of numbers, to what appeared to be a bank account somewhere, and two words: “For Ashley.” He closed the note and nodded before boarding the helicopter.

“What was that?” Greg asked as soon as their headsets were on.

“I think my sister gave her share of our inheritance to your daughter,” he said. The numbers had resembled the account that her funds had been sent to, though it had been ages since he had last checked. But it appeared that Eurus had a gift of her own to give, and for once, he was grateful for it, at least for Ashley’s sake.


	3. Chapter 3

Once they were back at the fortress they now called home, Mycroft finally started to relax. He set the note on his desk in his study before joining Greg and Ashley for Christmas films on his movie screen. It had been harder to find some of Ashley’s favourites in a format other than DVD, but he had managed and they watched film after film until Greg noticed Ashley had fallen asleep curled up next to him.

It didn’t take long for Mycroft to pick her up and carry her to bed with Greg behind him. One night in her clothes wouldn’t hurt, he supposed. Greg pulled back her quilt and sheets and Mycroft laid her down, and they both kissed her forehead once they tucked her in.

They left the room holding hands, and were quiet until they got back to his study. “You know if your sister left her money, my ex will go after it, somehow,” Greg said.

“I know,” Mycroft replied. “I doubt she will be successful, though. I know my ways around banking and trusteeship.” 

Greg nodded. “Good,” he said. He let go of Mycroft’s hand and went to pour them each a brandy. “It’s been an interesting month.”

“It has,” Mycroft agreed. He sat in his favoured chair and drummed his fingertips on the arm. “What are we waiting for?”

“Hmm?” Greg asked.

“With our marriage. Are we still going to...get married?” he asked.

“I’ll marry you tomorrow if you can arrange it,” Greg said, pausing in his task and looking at Mycroft. “Ashley’s here, Sherlock and Mary and John and Rosie and Sally are here, we can get your parents to come from Cambridge...”

“Then let’s do it,” Mycroft said. “Let’s stop putting it off. Anything can happen. Today could have been an utter disaster if Eurus had...”

“Snapped?” Greg said, and Mycroft nodded. “You’re right. I mean, I’m still a copper. I go out to dangerous situations.”

“Don’t remind me,” Mycroft said. “Then tomorrow. I’ll make the arrangements we need and see if Andrea has returned and she can be my best woman. Sherlock can be my groomsman.”

Greg chuckled. “You don’t think Sherlock will be miffed if he’s not best man again?”

“He can be yours and I’ll poach Sally. Or Molly. They tolerate me.”

This time Greg’s laugh was heartier. “Oh no. Sally is standing by my side. Molly, too.”

“So John is our sole guest that isn’t family?” Mycroft asked, his lips edging up into a smile. “We can have Rosie be the flower girl and Ashley be the ring bearer.”

“I approve of all of that,” Greg said, going back to the drinks. Once they were poured, he took one to Mycroft and then sat next to him. “Tomorrow, we get married. I mean, it isn’t everything we’d wanted, but--”

“All I’ve wanted is to marry you,” Mycroft said softly. “I don’t mind a lack of pomp and circumstance for the occasion.”

“It’s good we’re of the same mind, then,” Greg said, leaning down to kiss his fiance softly. Mycroft kissed him back, feeling settled for the first time this holiday season. Whatever else came, he knew his family would be there, for now, and forever more, and nothing made him happier.


End file.
